


Five Times Bilbo Baggins Surprised Thorin Oakenshield and One Time Thorin Surprised Himself

by lifeaccordingtodraco



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: An Unexpected Journey, Ficlets, First Kiss, Fluff, Hobbits, M/M, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, The Desolation of Smaug - Freeform, The Hobbit - Freeform, arse grabbing, bagginshield, escape from Mirkwood, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeaccordingtodraco/pseuds/lifeaccordingtodraco
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield’s trust is hard won, and his love nigh impossible. Of course, that doesn’t mean a certain burglar isn’t making his damnedest effort.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 219





	1. Thorin Oakenshield on the Attractiveness of Dwarves Versus Hobbits

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments always welcome.

The sun beat down on them already, despite the early hour. The skies shone clear, bright blue, and the grass as green as emeralds. The beginning of their journey was one of quiet simplicity, and one of beauty. Yet, Thorin Oakenshield doubted much of their quest would match this first day in ease.

The horse in front of him halted, its rider, Gandalf, cocked his head back with a smirk. It was then that Thorin heard, coming up behind them, a shout. 

“Wait!” 

He pulled his pony’s reigns, directing it to turn. He looked down at Bilbo Baggins as the hobbit’s large feet carried him into view. Thorin saw him now truly, for the first time.

In the light, unobscured by rooms crowded withdwarves, Bilbo’s face was striking. His features somehow displayed both strength and a softness Thorin doubted could be found in the faces of dwarves, at least not any dwarves he knew. Thorin could not deny he was shocked to see the hobbit here, and even more so to see the excitement which filled Bilbo’s hazel eyes.

Bilbo offered him a grin as he handed his contract on to Balin. Thorin raised an eyebrow, awaiting Balin’s conclusion.

“Everything seems to be in order!”

At long last Thorin returned Bilbo’s grin with a nod, looking the hobbit over with more satisfaction than he cared to admit, and refraining from a chuckle. He suspected that Master Baggins had hastily bathed, preparing himself quite formally for this journey.

Bilbo’s burgundy jacket was tailored to his short, sturdy frame. The sleeves stretched perfectly across his biceps which, along with his hands, shone perhaps not the body of a warrior but that he was no stranger to labor. His legs too, were tanned and strong, his calves brandished below tight, knee length trousers. Thorin tried unsuccessfully to keep his gaze from the other areas of Bilbo’s body that were accentuated by his form fitting attire.

The story Gandalf had told described a younger Bilbo Baggins as someone longing for adventure, and while doubt still plagued Thorin’s mind, he could not deny that the hobbit had proven him wrong once already. He had found his way to them. Nor could Thorin deny that he was glad to start this journey with Bilbo Baggins in his company, if only to have something far more attractive than his kin to look upon.

A bag of coin landed in his lap as his burglar — the company’s burglar — was lifted onto a pony. He too had wagered that they’d see none of Master Baggins hence forth. While he remained skeptical, certain the hobbit was unprepared for what lie ahead, this was one bet he was perfectly fine with losing.


	2. Thorin Oakenshield on the Cleverness of Burglars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin Oakenshield loves being right. And he is...sort of.

Thorin leaned for a moment with his back resting against the stone leg of a mountain troll, a mountain troll that mere moments before had been ready to spit roast and dine on them all. Gandalf offered him a hit of the wizard’s pipe, and he took it gratefully.

“I thought your burglar was a traitor, Gandalf.”

“You’re far too suspicious of those outside your kin, Thorin Oakenshield. Some trust would do you well.”

“What has trusting outsiders done for me thus far?”

“Saved you from three mountain trolls.” Gandalf’s eyes pierced Thorin with a scathing look before he stepped away, taking his pipe with him. Thorin grimaced. He’d seriously considered letting two trolls tear the burglar limb for limb, and then seriously considered tearing the hobbit apart himself when it appeared they’d been betrayed. In turn Bilbo had proven him wrong on yet another account.

“Master Baggins,” he called the halfling over to him. “How did you know about the dawn? I wasn’t aware hobbits were so well versed in the beasts of the wild.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting, and to his surprise saw the hobbit shrug.

“Well they said so. Just after they’d strapped the others over the fire, that troll there,” Bilbo pointed, “Tried to rush things along. ‘I don’t fancy being turned into stone,’” Bilbo mimicked the voice of the beast as if his explanation was as simple and obvious as it should have been. And indeed Thorin and his kin, all of whom knew well the folly of mountain trolls, had missed their opportunities to play for time.

“Quick thinking, Master Baggins.” Thorin’s eyes narrowed as he looked on the hobbit. “Perhaps try next time to be quicker on your feet as well.”

Thorin turned to rally his company, leaving Bilbo in the wake of his frustration. His mind was unbalanced and riddled with doubt. It was, after all, the burglar who’d needed rescuing, but it was he who’d chosen longing hazel eyes and tussled sandy hair over the fate of his kin and himself. He who’d gone against his own words to make the halfling somehow his responsibility. He and the others who’d utterly failed in their attempts to free themselves from three mountain trolls. And then it was Bilbo Baggins who’d rescued them all.

While certainly rescuing them seemed the least the hobbit could do at the time, Thorin now could not shake the dwindling of pride in the pit of his stomach. Clever burglar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know your thoughts on this one versus the first chapter. Chapter three coming soon!


	3. Thorin Oakenshield on a Burglar’s Place in the Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Bilbo may claim he’s not a burglar, Thorin is pretty sure he’s on his way to stealing something.

Thorin shuddered, his body aching. The weight of his amor was suddenly unbearable and suffocating. The blade at his neck sliced minuscule wounds into his skin with every labored huff. He stretched, fingers numb and arm far too short, for a sword he knew he’d be unable to reach. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and by Durin’s name, he gasped for his final breath.

Except that it wasn’t.

It was however the last breath he’d ever take as a dwarf that was untrusting of his company — of his burglar. For in that moment the body of Bilbo Baggins barreled into the orc above him. Bilbo Baggins who had returned from the goblin tunnels, who had made the choice to stand with Thorin and his company, who had promised to help them reclaim a home that had long been lost.

Hobbit and orc tumbled to the ground, and before the beast could react, before it could turn one death into two, it met its fate at the end of Bilbo’s sword.

Thorin’s eyes fluttered, his consciousness fading. As he sank into oblivion a final thought sank with him, if there was one member of his company he could put his faith in — should have faith in — as much as any kin, it was Bilbo Baggins. 

***

On a cluster of jagged peaks Thorin Oakenshield was surrounded by twelve dwarves and a wizard. They each faced their burglar, who stood alone against Thorin’s feigned wrath.

“You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?” The words stung as they left Thorin’s lips. His heart beat heavy with guilt. Thorin heaved a final sigh in his regret, and as he gazed on the downcast face of the halfling, he lay aside his pride and admitted his mistake.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life.”

Bilbo’s eyes shot up to meet his own. He fell on his burglar in a crushing hug, desperate to convey his sincerity. At first Bilbo’s body was stiff and Thorin hoped he’d not overstepped his boundaries. The truth of it was, with his acceptance of this trust Thorin allowed his thoughts of Master Baggins to overwhelm him, and to touch Bilbo was more liberating than he imagined. Especially as the hobbit’s body melted into his own.

Thorin felt Bilbo’s arms wrap around him in return, not missing that one arm was distinctly under his fur coat. Bilbo clutched at his hip, their legs bumping against each other. Warmth washed over him as Bilbo’s fingers fiddled with the edge of his shirt until they found his bare skin. Thorin knew then, by the twitch in his loins, he must release the hobbit lest the entire company be privy to his desire for this connection.

“Thank you,” he whispered before he pulled away. Thorin held Bilbo still for another second, squeezing his biceps gently and trying not to smirk. Bilbo, on the other hand, let a small smile play at the corners of his lips, his eyebrow raised. Thorin caught the wandering of the halfling’s intoxicating eyes over his battle worn body.

All at once Thorin chuckled, nodded, and dropped his arms. “I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, I would’ve doubted me too. I’m not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar.”

Thorin’s voice lowered. “I’ll be the one to make that decision Master Baggins. As it stands, you belong with the company.” 


	4. Thorin Oakenshield on Taking Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is fighting a losing battle, and he’s not fighting very hard.

“Well that’s that then,” Balin sighed. “A deal was our only hope.”

But Thorin, Son of Thrain, Son of Thror, had long since given up giving up. And he was keenly aware that within the wood elves’ prison one member of their company was missing. His burglar.

He smirked and gazed up from between the bars. “Not our only hope.”

The minutes passed like hours and mostly in silence. Thorin had taken a seat against the stone wall of his cell, listening to the occasional muttering of his kin. Dread plagued his mind as he wondered after Bilbo. They’d been separated in Mirkwood...perhaps for good. The halfling could be dead and Thorin would never know. Still, he could not place what kept him looking out into the little he could see of the elvish kingdom, what kept him waiting and hopeful that Bilbo would come.

Again he heard calls of desperation from cells lined next to his.

“I’ll wager the sun is on the rise. It must be nearly dawn.” Bofur’s voice was devoid of the joy Thorin was accustomed to hearing in it.

Ori, the youngest of their company, spoke softly and full of heartbreak, “We’re never going to reach the mountain are we?”

Quiet fell over them again, and Thorin expected that they were waiting for him to assure them otherwise. But the assurance they craved was not his to give.

There was a soft jingle of keys and Thorin was on his feet in an instant. He awaited an elvish guard that never came. Instead, Bilbo’s face appeared in the dim light in front of Thorin’s cell.

“Not stuck in here you’re not,” the halfling answered.

Thorin grasped the bars as Bilbo brought the first key to its lock. In the space between the iron he allowed his forehead to sink down against the hobbit’s. They spared a moment to glance upon each other, Thorin’s face alight with pride and excitement.

Bilbo carried on freeing the company. Swiftly he lead them down, down, down stairways that seemed infinite, until they reached the cellars. Thorin’s eyes narrowed as his kin turned on the burglar, panic setting in.

“I don’t believe it. We’re in the cellars!” Kili cursed under his breath.

“You were supposed to be leading us out, not further in,” Bofur accused.

Bilbo’s face was firm. “I know what I’m doing!” He directed them to a line of stacked and empty barrels. “Everyone, climb into the barrels quickly.”

Thorin heard shouts of elvish from above. Their escape had been discovered.

Dwalin closed in on Bilbo. “Are you mad? They’ll find us!”

It certainly would seem so. Thorin doubted sitting inside a barrel was the best form of hiding. And yet, as he listened to the exchange before him, he was ready to take the risk.

“No, no, they won’t! I promise you. Please, please, you must trust me.”

Thorin’s company shot each other looks of skepticism, making no attempt to follow the burglar’s suggestion. Pleading, Bilbo looked to him. As it was, every day it became increasingly difficult to deny the pull Thorin felt in Bilbo’s eyes, but now? After he’d come to their rescue yet again? Now it was impossible.

“Do as he says,” Thorin commanded. Without another word each dwarf situated themselves inside an empty barrel, until only Bilbo was left standing in the elves’ cellar.

Bofur stuck his head out, the brim of his hat flopping as it brushed the wooden rim. “What do we do now?”

Bilbo grasped a lever protruding from the floor. “Hold your breath.”

The floor gave way and one by one the dwarves and their barrels tumbled down and dropped into the river. The current pushed them forward as they tried to right themselves. Thorin watched the end of their line until Bilbo, too, plummeted through the cellar floor and into the water.

Nori thrust out his arm and pulled the halfling up to his wooden float. Thorin grinned.

“Well done, Master Baggins.”

Well done indeed. Thorin could not contain the laugh that burst from his lips, despite that this escape was far from over. For as the water splashed over the barrel’s edges and alighted on his cheeks, Thorin felt a freedom he’d never expected to find.

Bilbo Baggins most certainly was a burglar, and with each passing moment the risk of losing his heart to the thief weighed heavy on Thorin’s soul. 


	5. Thorin Oakenshield on the Rights of the King and the King’s Burglar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin recognizes that some trade offs are worth making.

The silence was somehow more deafening than the cheers of the people, for it gave way to the thundering of Thorin’s heart. It nearly knocked the wind from him and caused the hair decorating his chest to quiver. They waited, every human, every dwarf, wondering who indeed would vouch for the character of Thorin Oakenshield. Would he vouch for himself, even? Was this quest to be his downfall, the great cataclysm of his pride?

“Me.” Bilbo Baggins’ voice was a pin drop. “I’ll vouch for him.”

Thorin looked back at the hobbit. His body turned slowly until he faced Bilbo heart, mind, and soul. Their eyes locked.

“Now I have traveled far with these dwarves through great danger, and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it.” Bilbo was steady. He spoke with a sincerity that rallied those around him, his words delivered with such a strength that not a one had cause to doubt him.

Thorin held his gaze, a soft smile adorned across his lips. He wanted so much more than the the opportunities of gratitude presented to him, and yet for now, surrounded by an entire city he settled for a gentle nod.

Bilbo settled for a quick wink instead.

Thorin turned swiftly away from his burglar, a fire igniting hot and rampant in the pit of his stomach. Cheering began to circle his company again. They applauded Thorin and his quest. He, too, admitted to himself that shouts of ecstasy did feel appropriate, though maybe not for his unfinished journey and instead for the destination he’d already reached.

Thorin was in love with Bilbo.

It was a realization that consumed him, made the hair on his neck stand, gave him chills, caught his breath in his throat, and made him stretch his fingers as they ached to touch the hobbit now and forever.

He felt his face flush as he watched his burglar over his shoulder. Ever the picture of calm, Bilbo looked on into the crowd, laughing lightly and patting Balin on the back. But as he caught Thorin’s eye again, the king under the mountain watched stars alight under his lashes. Bilbo smirked, bit his lip, and mouthed words that in the dark Thorin could scarcely make out. But he could imagine.

Slowly the cheering faded back to murmurs, the people’s attention was drawn to the bargeman as he shrouded the prophecy with doubt. Thorin stilled as he listened.

“All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?!And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king, so riven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire!”

Thorin stood against the attack on himself and his kin, on his grandfather and father. He squared his shoulders to Bard’s onslaught, but he would not be swayed. For what could deter him with the support of his company, his kin, his amrâlimê? The right to his heart was a battle hard fought and, as he had discovered, easily lost. And with it in the capable and sly hands of a burglar, Thorin could only look toward his throne and toward a king by his side. With or without the confidence of the world of men he would push on to his destiny.

Behind him the master of lake town and his puppet betrayed the bargeman’s past to the city and to the dwarves. Thorin saw the shame that fell over Bard’s face. Bard, descendant of Girion. Thorin knew that his ancestor’s tragedy was not one the Bargeman would see repeated, but it was not the duty of the son of Thrain to care for the wounded of pride. It was his duty to rule.

Bard stepped to him, towering over the dwarf king, his eyes full of malice. “You have no right. No right to enter that mountain.”

Bard’s intensity was no match for Thorin’s, his size making no difference. He was a king in the eyes of his people and the eyes of his men. “I have the only right.” The only right to his kingdom, the only right to heart of Master Baggins. It was a fair price for the right of his trust, his passion, his love. 


	6. Thorin Oakenshield on Bilbo Baggins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin Oakenshield on Bilbo Baggins in quite a literal sense.

Thorin watched his company from behind, their feet solemn and stuttered. He lingered on each step to give himself time to memorize the way the stone felt under his boots. He doubted this was a path he’d ever walk again.

Ah, how quickly in his sorrow Thorin had forgotten his faith in a certain burglar.

“Come back! It’s the light of the moon! The last moon of autumn!”

Thorin heard his company sputter, their bodies hurrying to shift direction on the narrow steps carved into the statue’s side, but he was long gone. He held his breath as he ran, too anxious to exhale lest it be his last one with any hope alive within him. Could it be? Could Bilbo Baggins have saved them all one more time?

All at once as his feet fell upon the landing, Thorin took in the scene before him. The key hole bathed in the light of the moon, Bilbo with the map in hand desperately searching amongst the brush for the key which Thorin had dropped, and the key itself, flying toward him at the kick of the hobbit’s large feet. He set his boot down on the strings, which for all this long journey had hung round his neck, just before the key tumbled off the mountainside. He picked it up and watched Bilbo’s face alight, a bit smug.

The rest of Thorin’s company were mere moments away, and in those moments Thorin had the chance to steal something from the master of thieves himself. He rushed forward and Bilbo, as clever now as ever before, matched Thorin for speed in an instant. They collided into each other, two burning flames that were destined to explode. Their lips met clumsily as first, haste and height playing into their mismatched aim. But within moments they found a rhythm like a rushing river and it guided them through the passion they shared. 

Thorin’s tongue grazed Bilbo’s lips and the hobbit opened to him willingly. He tasted the salt of Bilbo’s sweat on his tongue, a sensation that very nearly drove him wilder than dragonsickness could ever. Bilbo propelled himself from the stone floor to wrap his legs around Thorin’s hips. Thorin cupped the halfling’s arse with one hand as their bodies ground against one another. It was the longest and shortest moment of Thorin’s existence.

For as the mutters and hurriedness of the dwarves ascending the mountain drew closer, their lips separated and their bodies disentangled. They backed away from each other just as Balin came into view.

Thorin attempted to quell his panting. He wrapped his coat around his body a bit further, hiding his erection. It was far too late to devote himself to Bilbo with words of affection, but for all his great wisdom he knew something had to be said. As the rest of his kin looked on the keyhole with glory in their eyes, Thorin could see only Bilbo.

“Well done, Master Baggins.” He could only convey so much with those words, and yet somehow he expected Bilbo understood his every intention.

The halfling grinned. “Well done, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Fin~ 
> 
> I do hope you’ve enjoyed this little ficlet! Thank you for sharing some of your time with me.


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